


Co-Dependency

by ozuttly



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Mild Sexual Content, One Sided Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6182365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozuttly/pseuds/ozuttly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's not the one you're in love with that you learn to rely on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Dialogue Prompt - 'What happened doesn’t change anything.'

Tokugawa is the sun. He’s bright, draws people in and rallies them to his side. Sometimes Masamune thinks he’s too bright, too splendorous, a beacon burning himself to nothing from the inside out, but neither of them say anything. Lord knows that Masamune is the type to give too much for his men and his goals as well, wearing himself thin until almost nothing is left, and without Kojuro and Sanada there to remind himself of who he is he would have burnt out long ago. 

Tokugawa has lots of people, but nobody who he relies on. He’s the leader of the eastern army, on a mission to kill the man he cares about most, and sometimes Masamune wishes that he could just punch him and make him wake up. Because this campaign has already caused far more hurt than it needed to, and as much as he begrudges Ishida for the fight he lost, he knows that holding onto that will only make him weaker. 

He wonders whether Tokugawa can learn to let go, too. 

At the very least, even though Tokugawa won’t rely on his allies in the way that he might need, Ieyasu is more forthcoming. When they’re alone in his private quarters, naked and sweating, Ieyasu coming apart under Masamune, he feels more open and raw, and Masamune wonders if he can pull him apart enough to find the thing that’s wearing on him and rip it out. Sometimes, when Ieyasu collapses, tired and sated, Masamune thinks that he might have come the closest he could to doing that.

“We’re fighting Ishida tomorrow,” he says lazily one evening, when they’re laying in Ieyasu’s futon after the war council outlining their battle strategy. Everybody else has left; the other warlords know loosely of the arrangement that the one eyed dragon has with the sun of the east, and nobody questions their actions. Sometimes that alone is frustrating. 

Tokugawa smiles at him, but it’s pinched at the edges, and his eyes aren’t as bright as usual. 

“Yes, well. I’m prepared for that,” he laughs, hollow, and Masamune casts his eyes to where Ieyasu’s fists are clenched in the sheets. No, he’s closer to Tokugawa now, the ever-smiling leader of the Eastern army - a subtle difference, but one that Masamune can spot, when Ieyasu closes himself off like that. 

“You brought it on yourself, you know,” Masamune says conversationally, and the words are blunt and crass but they’re true. Ieyasu flinches under the sting of them, but he needs to hear it. His facade can fool a lot of people, but the one eyed dragon is calm and observant, and has always been good at seeing through deceptions. “If you truly believed in the things you preach, this war wouldn’t be happening at all. Not that I mind, because Toyotomi’s defeat was something that needed to happen anyways, and I support your cause.“ He exhales slowly. “Plus, you keep up your ideals for your men, and I guess that’s admirable. But… You could have just talked to him.”

It’s funny. Masamune never talks when actions will suffice. He’s never been good at wearing his heart on his sleeve or making passionate declarations of his feelings. He knows Ieyasu isn’t either, for all his sunny disposition and speeches about the importance of bonds. 

“He wouldn’t have listened,” Ieyasu says, his tone fond but sad, and Masamune hums as the other begins to get dressed. “Neither Hideyoshi nor Mitsunari tolerate change. And the world needs to change, to unite and move into the future.” He smiles, and there’s something akin to regret on his face. “You always have been able to see through me, one-eyed dragon.”

Masamune snorts and rolls over. He doesn’t want to put clothes on just yet, so he lounges lazily while watching Ieyasu, admiring the muscles of his chest and arms before they disappear under a sleeping robe. 

“You don’t make it easy,” he comments, and Ieyasu laughs, but then it dims. 

“Ideals alone aren’t enough to change a country,” he explains, but it sounds more like a justification than anything. “If I can’t sacrifice what’s important to me, then how can I lead?” It’s a twisted and masochistic principle, something that Masamune can understand but can’t agree with. But Ieyasu is the general here, and Masmune had agreed to follow him, even though they were still equals. “What happened doesn’t change anything. Mitsunari will always be precious to me, but the people as a whole are more important. I can’t have it both ways.”

Have you even tried? Masamune thinks, but he doesn’t say it. He already knows the answer. Ieyasu will never try. Not because he doesn’t love Mitsunari (Masamune knows, oh does he know. It’s more than once that Ieyasu has called out the other’s name while they were in bed together. It annoys him, but he’s imagined the other as Sanada a few times too, so it’s not like he’s any better.) but because it would mean abandoning the persona that he’s spent so much time building up. 

Ieyasu had never been good at wearing his heart on his sleeve.

But that’s alright, because Masamune isn’t either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue prompt - “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”  
> Ties into the first chapter, so I decided to post them both together.

Tokugawa comes back victorious from his battle. His fists are bloodied and his breathing even as he smiles for his generals like nothing is wrong. There is cheering and celebration, talk of how he has united a country torn apart by war for so long, and Tokugawa smiles politely as he congratulates his men on their win. 

Masamune watches him quietly. He hadn’t seen Ishida’s corpse. Talk of the men goes that Ieyasu had held him for a long time after the battle, disarming him and sitting with him during his death. It had not been quick; Ishida had been delirious and had lasted for quite a while before he slowly bled out from the wound in his forehead. Masamune wonders if Ieyasu had cried, but his eyes were neither red nor puffy when he returned. 

Masamune can’t blame him. Sanada’s blood is on his own swords, from their own battle, and he hadn’t had it in him to shed a tear. Sanada had survived, but Masamune had severed the tendons in both shoulders. A country at peace doesn’t need rivalries or hot, thunderous battles. Things are set to change now, and Masamune has accepted it. He’s getting older, needs to move on. He’ll never stop being a warrior, and Sanada will never stop being one of the few men that he fully and utterly respects, but the temptation to continue on the way he always had was hard to quash. 

Ieyasu had trusted him at his side to rebuild his new country. Masamune did not take that trust lightly, and if it digs in painfully, cutting into his soul a little bit more each day, well… Maybe Masamune is a bit of a masochist too. 

They drink a lot that night. It’s a celebration, and Tokugawa is laughing along with the crowd, happily enjoying the upbeat atmosphere. Masamune watches him, his single eye narrowed as he nurses his own cup. The casualties of war are many. It’s always been that way, but this battle feels different. 

He clicks his tongue as he downs the rest and looks up to see Tokugawa settling down next to him, pouring him some more. 

“You look sullen, One-eyed Dragon,” he teases, and Masamune huffs. He is, he supposes. It’s not something he likes, feeling this way, but he can’t turn his emotions off the way that Ieyasu can. He can conceal, but it’s hard to detach. 

He takes the cup and swallows all of it in one go, looking up at Tokugawa with a hollow grin. 

The festivities don’t die until late in the evening, but Masamune and Tokugawa both excuse themselves early. They’ve both had a lot to drink, and Kojuro is watching Masamune wearily, but Masamune knows he trusts him. He may not always approve of what he does, but Kojuro will follow Masamune to the ends of the earth if he asks. Masamune doesn’t plan on asking, but it’s a reassurance regardless. 

Ieyasu pushes him against the wall as soon as they’re in his quarters, kissing him rough and sloppy. He smells of alcohol and blood, even though he’d already bathed himself earlier. Maybe it’s just metaphorical. Maybe Masamune is just tired. 

They tumble into bed half clothed, and the resulting sex is messy and raw. It’s like two animals licking each other’s wounds, and Masamune isn’t foolish enough to think that he’s not just as needy as Ieyasu is. 

Ieyasu calls out Mitsunari’s name as he comes, and Masamune stalls where his fingers are buried in him, his hand around Ieyasu’s cock going still. 

It’s never bothered him before. He doesn’t even think Ieyasu realizes that he does it, but this time he sees the shock cross over his face and notices that he begins to go limp. Ieyasu forces a smile and tries to laugh it off. 

“I-I’m sorry about that, Masamune,” he says, his voice wavering ever so slightly. Masamune pulls both hands away, and his own erection is flagging. Ieyasu looks far too small for a man of his size as he pulls the sheets around himself. “I don’t know why I would do that.” 

His lower lip is wobbling, and even though Masamune knows it’s coming, it’s still a shock to see the tears rolling down Ieyasu’s face. The man himself looks surprised as well, staring at the wet drops on the sheets below before he begins to laugh and rubs at his eyes furiously. 

“My, I don’t know why this is… I’m sorry, Masamune, I’m not much of a bed partner like this–” His words hitch in his throat as he tries to hold back a sob, and Masamune puts a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Look at me,” he commands, and Ieyasu looks up. His face is a mess. His eyes are red, his nose is running and his cheeks are wet with tears. He’s trying to hold it back, as he always does, and Masamune sighs slowly through his nose. “Just breathe, ok? It’s… It’s alright. I’m not judging you.”

The reassurance is apparently all that Ieyasu needs to break down, his head falling into the crook of Masamune’s neck as he sobs. They’re both wet and sticky with sweat, and now there’s snot on Masamune’s shoulder, but he rubs Ieyasu’s back regardless. He’s never been very good at comforting people. He can inspire their confidence and win their loyalty, but he can’t take away their hurt.

Hell, he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own half the time. Doesn’t know how to deal with the image of Sanada laying in the mud, his tear-streaked face angry and defiant and destroyed all at the same time, blood seeping through his clothes as he tried and failed to pull himself up. He doesn’t cry about it, because he knows that it won’t change anything. He almost wishes that he could, if only for the relief that it would bring. 

Ieyasu apologizes again into his shoulder, his blunt nails digging into Masamune’s skin as he continues to sob. 

“It’s alright,” Masamune says, even though it isn’t, and he’s not quite sure who he’s trying to convince.


End file.
